


Honey, Half of Me Has Gone Away

by archmaestergilly



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Filler, Pre-Relationship, Sansa-centric, follows season 7, let's get jonsa count to 3k!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 22:10:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12142176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archmaestergilly/pseuds/archmaestergilly
Summary: Jon is gone, Sansa is missing him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Drabbles imported from my Tumblr, basically just my way of coping with the horrible plot Sansa and the Starks had to endure. 
> 
> Title from Bonnie Raitt "My First Night Alone Without You"
> 
> let's get Jonsa to 3k!

 

Sansa was used to loneliness. On the night after they beheaded her father, she curled up on her bed and all she could think about was how it was her fault that he died. And then morning came and she realized that she was alone, truly alone, in a place where people hate her and her family. 

 

Over the nights to come, she learned how to stave off the loneliness. It didn't come easy for her. After all, she was just a stupid girl with stupid dreams who never learned. It took her years to master the act of being alone without feeling lonely. She didn't have other choice, not really. 

 

So it came as a surprise to her, this loneliness that swept her off her feet, at night when the castle was asleep, when her brother and sister were sleeping a few doors down. Shouldn't she feel happy now that her family was back with her? 

 

She was happy, really happy, when Bran came home and then Arya. But they're not the same Bran and Arya that she had known before. They had become so different, Sansa sometimes had difficulty understanding them. She found herself wishing for Jon's presence again. Jon would know what to say to Bran, Jon would know how to get Arya to share what she was thinking. Jon would be good for them. 

 

_Unlike you_ , a tiny voice hissed in her head.

 

A tear rolled off her eye.

 

There was whining and scratching sounds at her door. She swiped her cheek and pull herself up. It was Ghost, she knew. Sometimes the wolf liked to sleep in her chambers when he wasn't hunting. 

 

Sansa got up and opened the door. Ghost nudged her hip with his head before slipping inside and took his place on top of her furs. 

 

Sansa laid beside the massive wolf, facing him. Ghost was quiet, he rarely made a sound, but his red eyes looked sad in the dim lighting. 

 

'I know. I miss him too, Ghost,' she whispered in a voice so small. Ghost put one of his paw in her open palm.

 

'You won't leave me, will you? You'll stay here with me. Forever?' 

 

Hot tears came unbidding from her eyes, burning a trail on her cheeks. Ghost shifted and licked her face. She tightened her grip on his snowy furs. 

 

'Please come home soon...' was her last thought before she finally succumb to exhaustion. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's thought immediately after her confrontation with Arya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're all agreed that part was ugly as hell. In my head, Sansa doesn't want to blame Arya, but she was shaken by how her own past feelings seem to rear their petty head.

Sansa strode to the Godswood, shoulders heavy with all this weight they put on her since Jon abandoned her. Arya’s words kept ringing in her ears. The anger laced in her sister’s voice had shaken her otherwise icy demeanor.

_Don’t cry… Don’t… Don’t you dare cry!_

She felt like she was thrown back to her younger years. Her old insecurities threatened to vomit out of her. She was just a stupid girl, after all, a stupid girl who never learned, traitor to her family, to her own father.

Her knees gave up when she reached the heart tree. The snow scrunched in her feet. The winds of winter breeze slowly, hurting the skin on her face. She never felt so small.

A part of her wanted to hate Arya for her stabbing words. The old Sansa, the one who only ever cared about songs and pretty dresses, the one who had giggled when her friends called Arya names.

The other part of her knew she could not, should not, and would not hate her sister. _'She doesn’t know… Arya doesn’t understand what had happened… I can’t blame her. Father wouldn’t want me to, Jon would hate me if I do… We need to trust each other… The pack must survive…’_

There were no tears on her eyes, though her whole body shook and her fingers trembled. She needed to calm herself.

Something wet nudged her face. She looked up and stared at Ghost’s red eyes. Ever silent. Ever watching. The great beast put his head on her shoulder. His white fur clouded her whole view.

Sansa put her arms around Jon's direwolf, waiting for the tears that would not spill.


End file.
